Stay With Me
by Of Darklings and Shadow Men
Summary: Warning: sorry, more spoilers for Ruin and Rising! This is what would've happened if Alina had responded to the connection between her and Darkling after Baghra's death. Just a cute little scene I decided to write :)


_**Stay With Me**_

**Alina**

I could feel it. That invisible pull, the tug of the connection between us. It had been nagging at me since Baghra's death. It made me uneasy. The Darkling was not a loving man. He was a creature, twisted by his own darkness, and that darkness had taken away the one person who had meant something to him. I couldn't trust him. And yet...

What would it be like? To see him grieve? To see him in pain? To see him...vulnerable? The thought was so strange, that I found I couldn't resist. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that no one was watching. Not that it mattered. I turned and pressed my forehead against a tree. _Please, _I thought, _don't make me regret this. _I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the pull of our connection drag me away.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark and blurry. I saw golden smears flickering at the edge of my vision and assumed that they were candles. It was chilly here and I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. I didn't like this at all. I searched for the clearest space of my vision, where I knew he would be. When I found it, I held my breath, not daring to move.

The Darkling was seated at the head of a long, ebony table, which I recognized as the war table of the Little Palace. He had planned Ravka's destruction in that chair, studied where he would strike on that table of maps. Now the maps were gone and he was sitting with his chin resting on one hand, his ashen gaze cool and distant. His inky hair was sweeping across his eyes in a jagged line. He didn't even look up when I appeared. I heard him let out a quiet breath.

"What are you doing here, Alina?" he asked. His voice was quiet and flat, like he was tired of speaking.

I shivered again and shrugged uneasily. "I don't know," I admitted in a small voice. "I just...I felt our connection again. I thought that meant..." I trailed off without finishing. It sounded foolish and weak. _I thought that meant you wanted to see me._

He sighed. "You should leave," he told me. Still in that same, hollow voice.

I blinked. "Why?"

He didn't meet my eyes. "Because I want you to stay," he admitted softly. He didn't say what we were both thinking, a whispered confession I'd heard so long ago: _The problem with wanting is it makes us weak._

I took a tiny step toward him, coming around the corner of the table. I didn't know whether to be afraid or not. He didn't seem dangerous now. He didn't look like a murderer, or a monster. He looked like a grieving boy, lost and alone. It hurt me to see him acting so human. I wanted to believe it would last.

"Why do you have to be like this?" The words were out before I could stop them and then I clamped my mouth shut, horrified.

He looked at me then. The deep abyss of eternity yawned in his quartz-gray eyes, bottomless and unfeeling. He wasn't human. He was a sinful angel, a lovely demon. He wasn't something to be trusted. "What do you mean?" he asked.

I swallowed hard and took another step closer. "You're acting as if you care," I explained lamely. "After everything you've done, you're acting like she meant something to you. Like you actually feel something."

"I am ancient, Alina," he stated. "And I have many more years to live. I've just lost one of the only people that can live for eternity with me. Did you expect me to be heartless?"

I had to nod timidly. "You've never done anything to prove otherwise."

He was silent for a long moment. I could see the bleakness in his expression, the lonely years of his life piling up. I wondered how much longer it would be before they drowned him. I walked forward until I stood beside him, a foot between us. I was afraid to draw any closer. We were both quiet for an immeasurable minute, the candlelight glowing softly around us. It lit bright pinpricks of light in his eyes.

"You say you hate the darkness," he said suddenly, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "But light can't exist without it. They need each other, just like night needs day." He raised his gaze to mine, slowly. "Your light needs my darkness. Have you ever though of that, Alina?"

I felt something flutter inside me, some dark part of me that still wanted him. I lifted my chin challengingly. "Yes. But if that's true, then what are you without me? A boy lost in the dark?"

He shook his head, like he knew it was hopeless to answer, and stood up. He kept his eyes trained on the table beneath him and didn't even acknowledge my presence. He turned to leave. Without thinking, I reached out and took hold of his arm. He tensed. Those glimmering, slate-gray eyes lifted to my hand and then to me, calmly waiting for an explanation. _A boy lost in the dark._

"Did you love her?" I asked. I wanted to see him vulnerable. I wanted him to feel.

He closed his eyes briefly. "Leave, Alina."

"She loved you," I pressed. "She wanted you to be redeemed. Why didn't you let her help you?"

"I told you to leave."

"I want to stay."

His eyes held mine in the candlelit room. I hadn't realized how close I was until I breathed in and his scent washed over me, clean, dark, and sinful. Tempting. I thought I saw him take a breath. "Alina..."

"Aleksander," I murmured, and our lips met. The kiss was tender and slow, burning with a heat that wasn't quite strong enough to destroy me. I decided it wouldn't be so bad if I lost myself in it, just this once. I shifted to one side, placing my hands on his chest. He let me push him back against the table, bracing his hands on it's cool, wooden surface. I angled my head, deepening the kiss. With a soft growl, his hands came down to my hips, turning us around and lifting me until I was perched on the edge of the table. I tried not to let him hear the sigh that escaped me. My ankles were crossed behind him, keeping him close.

Part of me was drowning, but another part was terrified.

_He's evil. He's killed thousands. _But his arms were warm as they wrapped around me in the dark.

_He hurt Genya. He blinded Baghra. _But he was kissing me as gently as falling rain, soft over my skin.

_Mal. Remember Mal._

The Darkling's lips trailed down to my jaw. "Stop," I whispered, my hands on his shoulders. "Just...stop." He reached a sensitive place behind my ear and when he kissed me there, I gasped. This was bad; I hadn't expected to react this strongly to him. "You have to stop."

"Are you sure you want me to?" he asked against my skin.

_No. _"Yes."

He let out an exasperated breath and drew back. But I'd forgotten that my ankles were hooked around him and when he tried to pull away, he found he couldn't. Surprise passed over his features. He looked at me, still holding my waist, still unbearably close. Slowly, I leaned my forehead against his. What was I doing?

We stayed like that, silent, alone. I listened to his breathing, a soft lullaby in the candlelight. I shivered. I'd wanted him vulnerable and this was vulnerable enough. This was dangerous.

"You want to leave," he said, not quite a question.

"I know. I am."

He closed his eyes. "Can you say it again?" he asked in a whisper. "My name?"

"Aleksander," I breathed, speaking it like a dark secret, or the wish of a lovely demon.

I felt him tremble slightly. And then. He surprised me again. "You could stay, you know," he murmured. He sounded...almost pleading. "Stay with me."

I shook my head. "No," I whispered, already pulling back, severing the connection. Well, "no" was what I wanted to say. I wanted to be strong and refuse. But what I whispered to him, so quiet, where only we could hear, was, "I wish I could."

He was alone once more, a boy lost in the dark. Maybe I'd imagined the disappointment in his eyes.


End file.
